


Dreams Come True (In Santa Fe)

by aswonder



Series: Newsies One-Shots [3]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Character Death, I wrote this out of spite, M/M, Not Happy, You Have Been Warned, fuck you Sarah, like at all, this is a spite fic, this is some sad and unfriendly shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 05:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15284904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aswonder/pseuds/aswonder
Summary: “I don't understand why I'm not dead. When your heart breaks, you should die”-Tony Kushner, Angels in America





	Dreams Come True (In Santa Fe)

**Author's Note:**

> Listen this isn't meant to be nice, like it says in the tags I literally wrote this because my friend was Rude. This is 100% spite fic and it's meant to hurt. I combined four prompts with the intent of Pain. Enjoy :)

It was a day after the strike had been crushed by the police. New York watched, waiting for the next move from the newsboys. Davey was just as lost as the rest of the city. The moment he had heard Les' pained shout, he'd left the fight, rushing his little brother home. Thank god, his arm wasn't broken, because they definitely couldn't afford a hospital bill. He felt terrible about leaving the fight, knowing he could help someone, if he was there. He had to take care of his brother though, no matter how much he wanted to help. When he got Les settled at home, and he returned to the lodging house in the morning, he learned that Jack hadn't been seen since he'd left. Davey tried his best to quash the rumors while he was there, reassuring the younger boys, with bruises on their face and broken spirits, that Jack would be back soon. It took everything in him to hide his own fear from them. It wouldn't do to make an entire group of kids scared. So, despite his own worries, he spent the day with the Manhattan newsies, helping patch up everyone that had been injured or wounded. It was laborious and exhausting work, and hearing the pained whimpers and quiet crying around the room didn't help the struggle to put on a comforting and calm expression. Racetrack Higgins, Jack's second, was doing his best, but he was stretched thin. He very rarely had the entire house under his responsibility, and when he had in the past, it hadn't been for more than a few hours. Race was doing his best, but he was very clearly stressed. When David had arrived, Race begged him to take over for just five minutes, which he had of course agreed to. When he returned, he smelled clearly of smoke, and his cigar had been burnt down. As long as he'd known him, Race had never lit the cigar, but the stress surely demanded even a little bit of relief. They needed Jack to come back. No one knew where he was, and that was the real issue. Davey wished-

His internal thoughts and worries were cut off with a loud bang, followed by the sound of his window sliding open. Half lost in thoughts still, he couldn't think of anyone that would break into his room at nearly nine o'clock at night. He practically fell out of bed, giving a start at the sudden intrusion. He stumbled towards a bat leaning in the corner of his room, not even pausing to look at who it. Breathing hard due to panic, Davey spun around and nearly brought down the weapon on the man who stood behind him. A startled noise came from the guy, and he swung his arms up to cover his head at about the same time as Davey dropped the bat. "Jack! What the hell!" he shouted, his legs shaking, "would you please STOP coming in through the damn window, it scares the hell out of me every time!" He adds, still yelling, still startled and hyped on adrenaline.

Jack flinched at his tone, lowering his arms and his head at the same time. "I'm sorry I scared ya, Dave... I didn't mean to." He apologized, looking guilty.

"Don't ever do it again, I swear you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days!" He complains, still shouting. He let out his breath in a heavy sigh, before looking over his friend quickly. He noticed that his face was slightly pale, though he assumed it was because he felt bad. "God, where have you been? We've been lookin' everywhere for ya" he murmured, finally relaxed. He leaned forward and wrapped Jack in a tight hug, relieved to see him. His arms immediately dropped his arms, though, when Jack released a pained grunt, instead of returning the hug. Davey frowned, backing away and holding him at an arm's length. "What? What's wrong? Are you sore? I didn't see you get hit, did I m-"

Jack cut him off with a waved hand, even though he wore a pained grimace. "Y-yeah. Sore. 'm sore," he assured his friend. Before he could question the validity of the statement, Manhattan's leader plowed ahead. "How're the boys? They doin' okay? How's Race? How's he doin' leading the boys?"

Davey gave him a wary look, wanting to question his injuries more. There was a moment of tense silence, where he assessed his friend before he chose to answer. "They need you, Jack. Race is doing the best he can, but he's stressed and overworked. He can handle it, I guess, but he needs help. Some of the kids are hurt, and all the older boys have been doing their best to patch them up, but with their limited supply of med- Jack? Jack, what's wrong?"

He'd watched as his friend's face paled even more, but had continued his explaination. His worry skyrocketed, though, when the strike leader collapsed, and only his instincts enabled him to catch Jack before he hit the ground. His hands grabbed him at his sides, holding him up, and he realized two things in the same instant. For one, his friend looked faint, undeniably not doing well. Secondly, something about his sides felt off... too soft, too plush. And, of course, the pained shout Jack released as Davey caught him was serious cause for concern. He struggled to carry his friend's dead weight to his bed, pushing him to lay down. "Jack? What the hell? What-" 

All his words left him in a gasp as he pulled up the hem of his best friend's shirt, revealing ripped cloth wrapped around his stomach, stained red with blood. His eyes darted up to Jack's face, and the expression he saw scared him the most. Jack looked scared. Terrified. He'd never seen that expression on his friend's face, not once. "Shit, Jack, why didn't you tell me about this right away!? Why did you just t- What the hell happened?" he demanded, hands shaking now as he untied the knot, peeling the ripped fabric soaked with blood away from his abdomen. Davey almost gagged as he looked at the wounds in his friend's side, three deep knife wounds, still oozing blood at an alarming rate. "Jack, what the fuck? Why are you here? Why didn't you go to the hospital?!"

Jack barely looked coherent as he whimpered softly. "I- I was scared, Dave. 'M scared. The Delancy brothers, theys was mad 'bout the strike. They cornered me, stabbed me. I thought it would stop bleeding but it didn't, it got worse and I didn't know where to go and- I... I don' wanna die alone. Please Dave, I don't wanna die. I'm scared." He whispered, tears sliding down his pale cheeks.

David was panicking for sure. "I- Jack, we need to get you to a hosp- MA! D-" He tried shouting for his folks, but he abruptly stopped. No one was home. His parents had taken Les to see a nurse friend of theirs, to see if they could do anything for his sprained wrist. No one was home. Just David, and Jack, bleeding out on his bed. "Fuck. Fuckfuckfu-" Davey moved to run his hands through his hair but stopped himself at the last second. They were covered in blood. Jack's blood. "Shit, what do I do? We have to get you to the hospital. Peroxide?" he muttered to himself, running to his bathroom. His mother had taught him what to do if he or his brother scraped a knee at the park. No one told him what to do with a stab wound.

As he left the room, he heard Jack whisper "Please don't leave. I don't wanna die alone, please..."

Davey could feel tears streaming down his own face, and he was crying so hard he almost couldn't see what he was doing. His hands, still stained with blood, were shaking violently as he tried to dig through the cabinet, searching for the familiar brown bottle. "You aren't gonna die, Jack! Don't fucking die on me, you asshole! You cant." he shouted into the other room. He was met with silence.

Quietly, a moment later, he heard his best friend, the love of his life, whimper "I'm sorry."

If nothing else had put the fear of God into him, those two words did. He finally found the brown bottle and stumbled back into the other room, eyes on Jack immediately. His chest wasn't moving. He wasn't- he wasn't breathing. Only then did David's legs give out, and he forced himself to crawl to the bedside. His fingers found his friend's neck, but there was no pulse. There wasn't a single heartbeat. But that couldn't-

Suddenly, Davey recalled a moment, months ago. Jack had invited him to stay overnight at the lodging house, invited him up to the roof. Even on the rooftop, there weren't many stars visible, since the city never slept, and there were always lights. The city at night was breathtaking, though, even from only a few stories up. Jack lay on his back next to him, much like he was now, but relaxed. His head lay on his arms, and they laid there in comfortable silence for awhile, before Jack exhaled quietly. He rolled onto his side to face the Davey, giving him a small smile. He'd only been selling with the newsies for a few months, but the boys were the only real, good friends he'd ever had, Jack especially. They were close friends, closer than he ever would have expected. "Davey, someday we's gonna get outta here. You an' me an' Crutchie. We's gonna go to Santa Fe. Everythin' is better in Santa Fe. No more worries, no more prob'lms. It'll be perfect." Jack had promised, and Davey had believed him. In the same moment, he had realized he loved Jack. Not just as a good friend, or a brother... more. It wasn't right, he knew it wasn't, but he couldn't help it. It was soon, and sudden, but he knew immediately that it was real. Jack was strong, and the best man he'd ever met. He was brave, fearless... Everything had been perfect, that night. Tonight...

"Jack, y-you can't die. Don't fucking die on me. We're supposed to grow old togetha, remember? We're all supposed to go to Santa Fe. Nothin' is wrong in Santa Fe, that's what you told me. Jackie... please." he managed, sobbing. Jack didn't answer. Futilely, he attempted to shake his best friend. Any reaction. Anything. But he received nothing.

It hit him, suddenly. The famous Jack Kelly was dead. He'd died right here, right on David Jacobs' bed, because he came to his best friend, instead of the hospital. He didn't... he didn't want to be alone when he died. But he was. He had been. Davey hadn't been able to save him.

Davey realized that he was crying so hard, no sound was leaving him. He turned, resting his head on Jack's still chest, tears soaking the shirt quickly. Softly, through his tears, he began to sing. His voice broke on every word, but he continued, possibly still in shock.

"You are my sunshine... my only sunshine... you make me happy when skies are grey... I never told you, how much I love you... please don't take my sunshine... aw-"

**Author's Note:**

> I know the song came out in 1969, not 1899 but humor me.  
> The four sentence prompts in this:  
> 1\. "would you STOP coming in through the WINDOWS, it scares the hell out of me every time!"  
> 2\. "I'm sorry I scared you, I didn't mean to." + "Dont you ever do that again! You scared the shit out of me!"  
> 3\. "Don't you dare die on me... We're supposed to grow old together"  
> 4\. "You are my sunshine... my only sunshine... I never told you... how much I love you."
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
